


Lovely dark woods

by LokelaniRose



Category: The Politician (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Grief/Mourning, I'm writing two politician fics, In this one River dies, M/M, Oral Sex, References to Depression, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 17:10:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21058004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokelaniRose/pseuds/LokelaniRose
Summary: They only have sex six times





	Lovely dark woods

**Author's Note:**

> The character of River Barkley was so interesting I couldn't not write this, as bittersweet as it is. Helped along by a perfect casting choice in David Corenswet.
> 
> AN - the same **trigger warnings** that the first episode of the show has.

They only have sex six times.

(The time with Astrid doesn’t count)

~

River knows that Payton has worked things out in his own mind, classified all the times they've had sex so that he can justify the moments of weakness or excuse the moments of indulgence, a layer of analysis followed by a layer of contingency planning followed by a layer of PR, the classifications being reviewed and renamed after each encounter as more information is added to the constant ticking algorithm inside Payton’s head.

(This makes it sound like River is disapproving of how Payton’s mind works; in fact the opposite is true. River adores Payton’s mind, especially when it’s being analytical like this. It makes him think of a bird in flight, all the minute adjustments it makes to glide along so beautifully. And if he were to take that analogy further, then Payton would be the goose that flies at the front of the ‘V’, letting all the others have an easier time off the updraft from his wings whilst he takes the hardest position at the front. No, River adores Payton’s mind, and the rest of him.)

River never asks about the classifications, as he privately calls them. But he thinks he knows Payton well enough to guess what they’d be. Something like:

1\. Just giving each other a hand

2\. Just…giving each other…another hand

3\. Educational

4\. Stress relief

(4.5. Astrid)

5\. The last time

6\. The Last Time

(Okay, that last one is River’s classification. It’s only three days before he – )

~

**1\. Just giving each other a hand**

The first time is terrible.

No, it’s not terrible. Having his hands on Payton is always perfection. But it’s terrible because Payton is nervous and feeling out of his depth and therefore goes completely overboard trying to stay in control. It’s performative and hollow and maddening.

River still comes, obviously. Payton is hot and River’s not a monk, despite Astrid’s occasional snide comments.

It’s a couple of days after River kisses him during their Mandarin lesson. Payton has clearly done a preliminary classification of ‘just bros being bros’, which is so un-Payton-like that River actually finds it delightful. They jerk each other off, River with his back pressed against the sun room wall as Payton kisses him firmly, with aggression, the way he thinks a jock kisses. River grasps the back of his neck and doesn’t try to hide his own pleasure, either from the kisses or the handjob or the soft touches to his stomach and hipbones, the tremble in Payton’s fingers the only real thing until his moment of climax, when River is pulling him off with long sure strokes and Payton comes with a choked-off breathless gasp and just at that moment, that precise moment, presses a kiss to River’s jawline, his mouth soft and warm and true.

Afterwards he tries to be macho about it, actually clapping River on the shoulder and going ‘thanks man’. River just dimples at him. Sometimes a dimple is the only answer when someone’s being an idiot.

~

**2\. Just…giving each other…another hand**

The second time is River’s. He wants it, he takes it. He’s been greedy for more of Payton though he’s not quite sure why, not at that stage. Not yet.

They returned to their Mandarin lessons without much mention of the rest, though Payton shoots him an occasional glance from under his eyelashes. But a week later River decides he wants more, needs his curiosity about this trembling-edge boy to be answered. They are studying in Payton’s room again, Payton laughingly stumbling his way through a translation of ‘Stopping By The Woods’ – _and miles to go before I sleep / and miles to go before I sleep_ – when River feels a surge of something cresting through him. It’s not anger, not lust, not quite something he can put a finger on, but he stands and pulls Payton roughly over to him for a kiss.

He jerks Payton off again, but this time he has no patience for any dissembling. He sits against the headboard of the bed with Payton’s back against his chest, holding him tight with a firm arm whilst his other hand strokes up and down his cock in front of both their eyes. Payton is a nice solid handful and River enjoys watching his hips twitch helplessly every time River gives a twist at the head. He puts his face into Payton’s neck and just breathes him in, the little gasps and shudders. When Payton comes he doesn’t grab River’s arm – he grabs his hand, the one with a firm grip on Payton’s sweatshirt, their fingers sliding together as his hips jerk unevenly.

River’s cock is a soft sweet throb inside his trousers, pressed up against Payton’s arse. River isn’t remotely interested in getting off himself right now. Payton is slumped against him with his eyes closed and a little shiver running through him, and River still wants more.

_The woods are lovely, dark and deep_, he thinks. He might as well explore them further.

~

**3\. Educational**

By the time they have sex for the third time, River and Payton are friends, and River has been able to do a little classification work of his own, trying to figure out why he’s drawn so much to his trembling-edge, darting-intense boy.

Payton is sharp. No, not sharp, _crisp_. And that’s good. Sometimes it feels like the world around River is blurring, all the colours and shapes and feelings just smearing into one another. That’s okay, if the feelings are good ones, but when they’re bad then it’s like that’s all River can see or smell or hear, like the sky is painted in all the sadness and bitterness and bone-deep misery of the people around him and River can’t block it out or hide away because it’s bled into _everything_ and how can he escape everything?

(Eventually he figures out how. But let’s not talk about that yet.)

But not Payton. When Payton walks into a room all the edges sharpen up again. There’s a preciseness to Payton that really isn’t all that healthy, River knows, even as he takes shameless advantage of it to shore up his own world. Payton’s preciseness comes from a terror of letting go or losing control or failing to live up to his own particular precise standards for more than three seconds. But – and this is a very important 'but' that River hopes Payton realises himself one day – Payton’s preciseness also comes from the intensity of all those emotions he keeps locked away. It’s the vibrancy of them leaking through (the joy, the pain, the delight, the terror –) that manifest in Payton’s extreme focus, his passion that masquerades as ambition. Payton looks at things so sharply that he is sharp in turn, and River basks in it.

Payton brings firmness to his world, and River needs that because otherwise he might just…float away.

(Payton hates it when he makes puns about his own name. But they’re friends now so Payton can suck it.)

Speaking of sucking it…

River props his hands behind his head and looks down at Payton, who has a hand round his cock and is staring at it. Normally River likes Payton’s focus but now is…not the best time.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly. It’s not beyond the edge of reason that Payton is having a sexuality crisis. Or maybe a masculinity one. He seemed to have shucked off most of that nonsense before he and River ever became intimate, but there might be some lingering issues. Especially with those brothers of his.

(River does not like Martin and Luther. It was the most startling emotion he’d ever felt, the wave of protectiveness that had shot through him the first time he heard how they speak to Payton. If River can hate, he hates them.)

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m just – figuring out some mechanics.” Payton says, in that rapid-fire way he has.

“You know the rule about blowjobs right?” River says softly, cupping his hand behind Payton’s neck. From several long make-out sessions he knows Payton likes it when he does, which is good because River does too, very much. “They’re like pizza, you can’t have a bad-”

“Of course you can have a bad blowjob.” Payton interrupts with a roll of his eyes. “That’s nonsense. And you can have bad pizza too, so the analogy doesn’t even carry through.”

“Well, I like bad pizza.” River says encouragingly, lifting his hips just the smallest centimetre towards Payton’s mouth, which is tantalizingly hot and close and _right there_. Payton gives him a critical look that is an unfortunate turn on.

“Only someone as physically attractive as you could get away with using such ridiculously cheesy lines.”

“Are they working?” River asks. He smiles at Payton and Payton smiles back.

“Yes. Now just give me a minute, I just want to…” Payton trails off, still staring at River’s cock. Then he abruptly shifts up a few inches, tilts his head to the side and slides all the way down in one smooth motion. River slams his fists into the bedcovers and has to use every fibre of his self-control not to shove his hips up. Payton’s mouth is hot and tight and wet and moving up and down on River’s cock, his tongue fluttering helplessly against the underside.

“Phew, it takes a little adjustment but it’s not too bad.” Payton says cheerily, pulling off to catch his breath. He’s bright-eyed and happy, like a child that figured out a puzzle, and even if River would give just about anything to get _Payton’s mouth back on his cock god please_, he still loves seeing it, loves the simple sincerity of Payton’s joy. “Do you want to fuck my mouth?” Payton asks, his hand coming up to stroke whilst he cocks his head, awaiting River’s answer.

River licks at his lips and looks at the ceiling for a moment.

“Would you like me to?” is what he settles on. Payton shrugs.

“I figure if this is a learning experience for me than I should try to have a go at everything.”

“There’s only going to be the one lesson?” River offers up his best puppy-dog eyes and Payton gives him an exasperated but also very fond look. He’s still oddly doubtful about the fact that River actually fancies him, is turned on by him and wants to touch him and be touched in return. 

“Well, you’re the tutor.” He murmurs, dropping his gaze demurely like some debutante straight out of Victorian England. “We could always schedule some review sessions.”

River adores him. “Sounds good to me. Let’s give you a good grounding in all the basics today then shall we?” He swings his legs off the bed and stands, his cock immediately level with Payton’s face. River lets him have a few moments to position himself, to get the angle right, and then he slides a hand along Payton’s jaw to hold him still and pushes his cock back into Payton’s mouth.

It’s warm and wet and perfect inside Payton’s sweet little mouth and River doesn’t hold back, sliding in so that he can feel the head of his cock hit the back of Payton’s throat with every thrust, Payton’s lips soft around the shaft as he pulls out. Payton has one hand on his own cock and the other clenched on River’s thigh and his face is wide-open and wondering, almost like he’s gone blurry himself. River fucks his mouth until the tension in his belly is too much to hold back from and then he taps Payton’s jaw to let him decide how to handle it – Payton immediately shoves down as much as possible and River has to grit his teeth from the pleasure as he comes in his mouth, feeling the fluttery pressure as Payton swallows around him.

Later, when they’re lying on the bed side by side – Payton had decided he needed more practice _immediately_, and then River figured his skills could probably use a brush up too – Payton creeps his hand into River’s and River immediately squeezes tight. Right now the world is sated and content, gone soft around the edges from the need to sleep and several consecutive orgasms rather than any hobbling grief of River’s. Payton’s hand is firm in his and he just prays it will be enough.

(It isn’t. But we’re not talking about that yet.)

~

**4\. Stress relief**

_“Fuck.”_

“Are you okay? Is it alright?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, it’s good – just – yeah, that’s better.”

“Christ you feel so good. Please let me –”

“Yeah – there – _harder_.”

“Harder?”

“Yes, come on, fuck – _yes_ –”

“Good. Hold on.”

~

**(4.5 Astrid**

Astrid is all rivets. Great fracture lines running through her hastily welded over and in some places the metal joins are holding better than others. River can hear them groaning sometimes under the strain. He desperately wants her to be okay when they finally buckle from the pressure.

She’s a discordant note when added to the two of them. When River is with her he can match her vibrations, ease some of the straining, and he and Payton have always fallen into easy harmony together. But the three of them get there eventually, make some sort of music.

River didn’t want this, but he wanted them.)

~

**5\. The last time**

“This might have to be the last time.” Payton says, trying for light-hearted but sounding like a child. They are lying in River’s bed, late evening sunlight streaking across the floor. River has had a bad few days. The blurring is all the time now. Sometimes he thinks maybe the string never broke, that he never made it out of the pool, and that the blurring is actually just the distortion of the water that he’s still slowly drowning in.

That would make all this just some last fever dream, of being with Payton in the sun whilst the water creeps into him.

River stretches. He knows how much Payton likes his body, something between the reveration of David and a carnal possessiveness that River smiles to see. Even now Payton’s eyes flicker over him, from his small brown nipples down the slender tautness of his abs and hips to where River’s cock is lying half-hard against his thigh, the covers twisted around his legs. If he rolled over then Payton would be able to see River’s pink hole as well, still a little tender from earlier.

“Really?” He asks mildly. The sunlight on the floor seems to shimmer, loses the sharp edges of the shadows. River watches it shine.

“Well, it’s just – with the campaign and everything-” Payton sounds hesitant, nothing at all like his declaration of candidacy speech the day before. River thought it was brilliant. He knows Payton is going to change the world. “I mean, it’s not the eyes of the world, not yet, not what I’ll have to deal with for the Presidency-” He always talks about it like it’s such a sure thing. Surety is a strange emotion for River to feel. It doesn’t so much paint the sky as leave murky fingerprint streaks across it. “But there’ll still be a lot of people watching me. Alice is a cornerstone of my campaign, I mustn’t let anything tarnish our relationship-”

“Tarnish?” River asks, his voice coming from somewhere deep inside his chest. He hadn’t meant to react like that, but the word hit him harder than he thought. He feels Payton pause and then shift over to curl along River’s side, his hands firm yet gentle when they stroke over River’s chest. _I’m being managed_, River thinks. He’d seen flashes of it before, the **politician** inside Payton. So practised, so polished, so performative.

“I’m sorry, River. I didn’t mean it like that.” So sincere, so serious. “You know how much this campaign means to me, everything that hinges on it. This is the beginning step to something great, River. Something I couldn’t even think to embark on without you.”

So confident, so calculated, so cruel.

River turns to look at him, tips his head so that a curl of hair falls into his eyes. Flashes his dimples. Leans in for a perfect kiss.

River can be performative too.

“I understand. You have to do what you have to do Payton. I believe in you.”

Payton falls back onto the pillows with a sigh of relief that he doesn’t think to hide. The politician still has some practising to do. The floor is a mess of colour now, the gold of acrid ambition and fervour mingling with brown bitterness and callousness and regret. River can taste them on his tongue, so he leans over for another kiss. Payton kisses him back absently, gazing up at the ceiling. His eyes are flickering almost too fast to see, tiny hummingbird synapses firing. He came here today to have this conversation, River realises, and now there’s a tiny tick next to the box marked ‘River’ and Payton has already moved on, factored it in, is stacking up the next set of plans to be implemented.

River wonders what he’s been classified as now. Ex-lover? Or mitigated risk.

He wants Payton to come back to him, to shore up his world a while longer. He needs Payton here with him, not off on the campaign trail in his own head, the one that leads all the way to white steps. River kisses him again, with intent, and puts his own hand on Payton’s chest. He feels Payton’s attention come back to him from the way the world suddenly tastes tarter, feels tighter.

“If that’s the case though…” he says, letting the words drawl out into the air between them. “Then maybe…” He rolls over, feels Payton’s gaze zero in on the curve of his back and his arse. “Once more for old time’s sake?” It’s said with a smile, a raised eyebrow, a tilt of the head.

Oh yes, River can be performative too.

Payton climbs over him, presses kisses down his spine, and River sighs out his pleasure. The lines of sunlight stretch out along the floor, fading now, from the turn of the earth.

Later that night, Payton will turn to him in the dark. He’s always truer in the dark.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Payton will ask softly. River will shake his head.

(No, not yet)

They’ll fall back to sleep without another word.

~

**6\. The Last Time**

Payton is so, _so_ angry with him. River looks at him and feels an intense swell of love for this trembling-edge, darting-intense, sincere-superficial boy. Payton is the only clear thing left in a world that is yelling at River all the time now, screaming at all of his senses with all of the sadnesses that the world always has, all the small griefs and drowning losses and bitter regrets and choking sorrows. Payton is there in the centre, moving through it all like there’s a spotlight on him, one that shines purpose instead of light.

River has just climbed through Payton’s window. It wasn’t the easiest climb, and he’s lucky someone didn’t spot him and call the police. But now he’s standing at the foot of Payton’s bed with his hands covered in scratches and his jeans ripped and torn, as Payton gapes and then glares at him, the creases of his pyjamas soft and worn, still angry about River’s candidacy. River just looks at him, and then climbs into the bed.

He pushes Payton back and kisses him hard, yanking off both their clothes. Payton puts up the briefest resistance and then he’s kissing River back just as hard – it’s been a handful of days since the last time and it’s clear he’d already missed it. Only River knows that this is The Last Time and it makes him rougher and more tender at the same time, cupping Payton’s jaw like he’s a fragile thing whilst his other hand is shoving Payton’s thighs apart.

Payton goes still when River touches him there, his eyes flashing up to meet River’s with a hint of that old demureness. They’ve always done it the other way round. But he says nothing when River grabs supplies from his bedside drawer, or when he slides his fingers in. River doesn’t know what Payton thinks he’s giving up by doing this, or giving into. Or maybe just giving, to River.

When he’s ready he rolls Payton over onto his front and fits himself against his back. Payton’s skin is soft and sun-warm and River thrusts gently against his arse before reaching down to fit himself inside, sighing as he eases his cock into that lovely velvet grip. Beneath him Payton has gone pliable and welcoming, letting River take what he wants.

River wouldn’t dare take a thing. Payton has promises he has to keep and miles to go before he sleeps, and River just has the lovely dark woods that he’s lost in.

But River can have him now, have all of Payton’s attention, every scrap of his focus and purpose and single-mindedness on him now, on River’s cock roughly fucking into him and River’s arm round his waist and River’s lips on the back of his neck.

Payton is actually whining, little bitten-off moans escaping and it’s music to River’s ears, how much Payton is loving this, completely and honestly and authentically. It’s all he wanted and it drives River right up to the edge, so that he’s gritting his teeth and clenching his muscles to keep from coming too soon. In desperation he hauls Payton up onto his knees, sliding into him balls-deep again and again until Payton’s shaking has tipped over the edge and he’s coming with a sob.

River tips his head back and closes his eyes and let’s himself go.

Payton is soft and fragile afterwards, nuzzling into River’s warmth. River can read him, always so easily – Payton knows he’ll never be able to let anyone do this to him again; the risk is too high and the rewards too few. Even with River. But tonight – tonight Payton let all of that go, and let River have it. For the first and last time.

He’ll be angry on Monday, River thinks. That’s when Astrid intends for River to announce Skye as his running mate. Payton will be so, _so_ angry. River’s not going to be able to bear it.

River doesn’t fall asleep when Payton does, still curled into River’s side. He waits until Payton is completely under and then gently slips free and leaves the way he came, opening up the scratches on his palms and scraping new ones into the skin. The walk home is long and the night is dark. River doesn’t look back.

~

(He never does talk about it, in the end. Probably because he’s always known that if he ever did, Payton would have convinced him not to.

That’s the only regret he has. That he didn’t let Payton convince him not to.)


End file.
